LONELY HEARTS
Esmé's life takes a dramatic turn when she becomes entwined with Eiser, a son from a powerful family. Haunted by loss and trapped in a loveless marriage, she battles to connect with a man who conceals his emotions behind a wall of sile...
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THE DUTIES
"Sometimes the most silent people have the most to say." – Unknown
Two weeks later, the clock struck past midnight, and the house was quiet except for the faint rustling of the wind outside.
In the dimly lit office of the mansion, Eiser sat hunched over a desk covered in papers, his sharp eyes scanning each document with precision.
His world pressed on him tonight—he had just returned from a late meeting with his associates and was now pouring over details that required his immediate attention.
The mafia's dealings never ceased, and neither did his role in keeping the empire intact.
His mind worked quickly, but his body showed signs of fatigue, the sharp lines of his face drawn tight, lips pressed into a thin line of concentration.
Every so often, his eyes would flicker toward the door as if expecting someone—or something.
But the only sound was the scratch of his pen across the paper.
His thoughts were a blur, tangled between the duty he carried for his family and the growing, unexpected attachment to Esmé.
He couldn't quite place it yet—why she was different, why her absence seemed to haunt the edges of his mind even as he tried to bury himself in work.
She was always present in the back of his thoughts, even now, as he signed off on another deal that would require him to be absent again.
He let out a slow breath, rubbing his temples. How long can I keep doing this?
Esmé had somehow gotten under his skin. Every time he thought about her, it was like something inside him wanted to break free, to allow himself a moment of peace with her, despite knowing how complicated it all was.
A sudden noise at the door caught his attention—one of his men, likely with new reports or urgent news.
He straightened up, pushing away the thoughts of Esmé, ready to face what awaited him next.
He had a duty, and for now, that was all that mattered.
The door creaked open, and one of Eiser’s men stepped in, a file clutched in his hand.
Eiser glanced up, the sharpness in his eyes returning as he motioned for the man to approach.
"What's the status?" Eiser asked his voice low that seemed to pull the room tighter.
The man placed the file on the desk. "It's the Davenport operation, sir. Things are getting complicated. They're expecting a shipment tomorrow, but the route's been compromised. We need to make a decision now."
Eiser leaned forward, eyes scanning the documents before him. His mind shifted into tactical mode, every instinct honed by years of navigating the dangerous underworld he ruled.
There was no room for hesitation in his world. He ran his fingers over the edge of the papers, his thoughts racing.
“Set up a new route,” Eiser ordered, his tone flat but decisive. “Get the boys ready and make sure there are no loose ends. I don’t care what it takes.”
The man nodded quickly, bowing slightly before turning to leave, but Eiser’s voice stopped him.
“And make sure it’s done discreetly,” Eiser added, his gaze intense as it locked with the man’s. “If anyone finds out, it’ll be on your head.”
With a nod, the man hurried out of the room, leaving Eiser alone again, the quiet returning to the space around him.
Eiser sat back in his chair, his gaze drifting back to the window.
The night seemed to stretch on endlessly, his responsibilities pressing down on him with each passing hour.
He clenched his jaw, the frustration gnawing at him. This is the life I’ve chosen, he thought, the life I have to live. But the thought of Esmé, alone in this house, waiting for him to come back… weighed on him more than he wanted to admit.
For a moment, the cold, professional mask he wore cracked, and the thought of Esmé’s soft presence in the house lingered.
He didn’t know what it was, but something inside him was beginning to stir—something that made the nights feel emptier than they ever had before.
With a frustrated sigh, he stood up abruptly, moving to the window.
He stared out at the endless night, his mind running through the duties of his role, the decisions to be made, but also the silent ache of knowing he was slowly losing the one thing he didn’t know how to hold onto.
He turned away from the window. He had to find her. Talk to her. He couldn't keep burying himself in work, no matter how much he told himself it was necessary. Not anymore.
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